the opposite of love isn't hate
by sins with tragedies
Summary: In which she loves him and he loves her, but love just isn't enough.
1. now

**(now)**

Papers, papers, papers. It's all Sakura Haruno seems to be seeing much of lately. The sound of shuffling papers has become like a second heartbeat. After having been appointed by the Board to take on the title of Chief of Surgery after her very own mentor Tsunade Senju retired, Sakura has barely seen the inside of an OR. Instead of scalpels and clamps, all she's been holding in her hands are pens for signing. When she was younger, she'd been told over and over that she had beautiful, delicate hands; most said they belonged to a pianist, while others argued that they were a doctor's hands. She opted for the latter. Four years of high school, four years of university, nine years of residency, and at the young age of 35, she's already at the very top.

She should be pleased and proud, and she _is_. But what she truly yearns for is the feeling of warm flesh under her palms, cold and sterile surgical tools in her fingers, the sight of blood and the sign life−life that she herself is preserving (a heart in her hands, beating because she _wills_ it to beat)… Her dream was to be a healer, to actively save lives, not to be holed up in an office from days on end with nothing but papers of financial and legal matters.

"Haruno-sensei." Three curt knocks interrupts the silence of Tsunade's−eh, no, _Sakura's_ , now−office.

The pink-haired doctor barely looks up from what she is signing as her assistant pokes her head into the room. "Uchiha-san has sent the papers you were waiting for," Shizune says. Some of the residents, and even most of the attendings, would have blushed from the embarrassment of handling the chief's personal life and delivering messages from her husband, but Shizune is able to keep her face straight as she set the folder on the desk. She understands that Sakura Haruno has a life outside of this hospital, even though it doesn't really seem like it.

 _Just add it to the shitpile I have to sign_ , Sakura thinks begrudgingly, though she knows these set of papers are particularly harder to sign than most. "He also said he wanted to talk to you personally but he has an urgent meeting at 5, so he will see you at 8."

"Tell him I'll just mail it to him−"

"He said you might say that, so he wanted me to say that he really does insist on meeting up and talking face-to-face."

Sakura groaned. What is he thinking arranging meetings when he knew damn well how busy she already is? "Did he leave an address or anything?"

"He said you'd already know." This prompts her to finally look up, the point of her pen digging into the paper as she paused. The ink bleeds slowly and she's reminded of veins popping and blood squirting out of them. She nods slowly and indicates for Shizune to leave.

Once the door is closed and a new kind of silence hung in the air above her, she pushes away the contract she is currently on and opens the one Sasuke had sent her. She flips through the pages, scans the words she's too afraid to read and understand. She sees his neat and elegant and perfect signature at the bottom of the pages. She traces them with her fingertip, and she knows. She is reminded. That she loves him. So much that it hurts, so much that she couldn't breathe, loves him in such an all-consuming way that just tears her apart limb by limb, until there is nothing left of her to save.

But she's barely seen the inside of her own home the whole week. She hasn't spoken with him in so long, could barely even remember the sound of his voice and yet…

she loves him all the same.


	2. 15 years ago

**(15 years ago)**

"I'm sorry," he muttered when his elbow knocked into hers when he took the only seat left−next to her−as their whole group settled on the counters of Ichiraku.

"I'm sorry," he muttered when he accidentally stepped on her untied shoelace, causing her to lose her balance as they all walked along the lamp-lit sidewalks of Konoha. Fortunately, he was there to catch her. To which he apologized again for having held onto her upper arm, even though he had just practically saved her.

"I'm sorry," he said when his pinky so much as grazed her skin.

He apologized for every accidental contact and it irritated her because she knew it wasn't really what he was apologizing for. He's walking on eggshells around her and it was pissing her off. It was so uncharacteristic of the Uchiha that it made her pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation. He didn't have to be so careful with her, she was used to it. She'd lived most of her life feeling unwanted. She wore rejection like a second skin.

She was about to say as much when he reached out to grab her wrist as she exited his car to offer another apology. But she just sighed and lowered herself back onto the cigarette-stained car seat. "You've been saying 'sorry' all day, Sasuke," she said tiredly, softly, understandingly. She flashed him her most convincing _I'm-okay-I'm-a-big-girl_ smile, but he didn't seem to buy it. He never did, and it always made her falter. His grip only tightened around her.

She had said something earlier that day. He had kissed her first thing in the morning, soft lips and light touches. He took her slowly and almost lazily, half-asleep and half-horny. He'd trailed feather kisses along her jaw and gently sucked on the pulse at the side of her neck. Afterwards, he'd laid his head on her breasts, as if listening to the pounding in her chest, as if the way her heart beat was _his_. He turned his head to look up at her, resting his chin on her heart, eyes hazy as he came down from his high and halfway back into sleep. She held onto his hair because all of a sudden she felt as though something was being ripped right out of her. And that's how those three little words came flying of her swollen lips, unbidden. _I love you_. His whole body went rigid, like he was turning into rock right on top of her. She wished she hadn't said it at the same time she wished she knew where those words came from.

"I'm…" he hesitated again, as if looking for the right words. But there was really nothing else to say.

She was tired of hearing it and he seemed tired of saying it.

"Sorry." He looked almost hurt and she couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve to look like that−had _no right_ , because she was the one who put herself out there and blurted it out like an idiot.

"It's not your fault that you don't love me." The hand on her wrist fell limply onto his lap and she slammed the car door shut.

It hadn't hurt that morning. The look of confusion and uncertainty and hesitation, the way he hurriedly pulled out of her and got off of her, as if touching her hurt him. None of it had hurt. But standing before him now, with that sorry little look on his face, she didn't even realize that she had half wanted him to close the distance between them and prove her wrong with a simple " _no, I_ do _love you_." But he doesn't. So she smiles and turns her back on him before the tears she didn't even know were there start to rain down her cheeks. She wanted to smack herself. She hadn't even known him all that long, really, only three years.

( _whyareyousostupidstupidstupid_ )

( _catchingfeelingslikeafoolfoolfool_ )

Funny, she didn't even know she felt this way about him. She could only sigh in relief that he didn't join her on the way back to the apartment they shared.


	3. 5 years ago

**(5 years ago)**

Sakura and Sasuke were never ones to put on a show. She found joy in what was simple and he claimed that he couldn't care less about the ceremony ("All that matters is that _you're_ there," he had said once, when they were planning the wedding over Skype; he had to turn away from the camera as he said it, but the way the tips of his ears reddened failed to escape his wife-to-be, as most things about him did).

The couple gathered their most important people, just a handful of friends and family. There was someone missing though, and Sakura didn't miss the way Sasuke's eyes lingered on the empty seat between his parents where Itachi was supposed to be. She, on the other hand, didn't have parents to speak of. But she had her Ino, her Naruto and his Gaara, her Minato and Kushina−her very own makeshift family. And of course, the man she would call husband for the rest of her life.

The wedding itself was a quick affair. She threw on a simple white dress and he looked dashing in an ordinary white button-up shirt−how lucky she was, to marry a man who looked drop dead gorgeous even in the most mundane clothing. The judge came and the couple exchanged a few words; promises of forever that dusted Sasuke's pale cheeks with pink and made her green eyes glassy with tears she couldn't shed out of consideration for her makeup. They exchanged rings and a sweet kiss that sealed the deal.

"I love you," she whispered. His reply was drowned out by the thunderous applause in the room.

In a split second, he was snatched from her and she was engulfed in Mikoto Uchiha's arms. Fugaku gave her an approving nod, which was the most she could ask from her father-in-law. When she looked over her shoulder, she found her husband caught in Naruto's lighthearted chokehold, his knuckles rapping against the newly-wed's skull.

"It's hard to believe you've all grown enough to get married when this is still how you kids behave," Kushina Uzumaki came to stand next to her, linking their arms together, looking fondly at her son and his best friend since he was five years old. "You take care of that boy."

"Haven't I always done so?" Sakura scoffed good-naturedly.

The redhead tilted her head and gave her a thoughtful look, before pressing a soft kiss to her temple, the kind that made her miss her own real mother (but missing her has always been something very vague and blurry−confusing, to say the least). "But you need to let him take care of you, too."

The afterparty took place in the same bar where Sasuke had semi-soberly asked her to marry him and she had semi-soberly said yes a few months ago when she had come to Konoha for their monthly meetings. It didn't matter to them that they were half-drunk when such commitments were made, and it wasn't something they would regret because it wouldn't have been any different had they been sober. There was only ever Sakura for Sasuke, and Sasuke for Sakura. And now, as their entourage took shot after shot after shot, she sat on top of the bar counter with her legs wrapped around his waist, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. Completely sober and ready to consummate their marriage right then and there.

"Get a room!" Naruto had shouted at them, less fondly and more disgusted ("He's about to fuck my own sister right in front of me, man," he grimaced. "Fucking straight people!"). And get a room, they did.

Sakura was awake and dressed and ready to fly before the sun was up. She pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose and she was gone when he woke.

.

"Good morning, Haruno-san!" A nurse chirped from behind the counter as Sakura entered the front doors of Sunagakure General Hospital.

"Hm? Oh, it's actually _Uchiha_ now!" She raised her hand and made an elegant gesture with her fingers. Her ring sparkled blindingly as it caught the light, but her smile shined brighter than the diamonds lumped together.

* * *

 **notes:** so i should've left this note earlier in the fic, i guess. i originally had a very different plan for this story but i couldn't quite figure out how to properly structure it, and ideas kept flying at me so i couldn't form a coherent structure for the events so i decided to try something i've never done before. so the whole thing, as you can tell, is not in chronological order. the fic as a whole is pretty short and the chapters will vary in length, because i'm just really so indecisive. this is also my first multi-chapter fic, so please let me know what you think because feedback is always well-appreciated.


	4. 14 years ago

**(14 years ago)**

 _Twenty-one._

Ino's arm was slung across her shoulders, swaying her from side-to-side as everyone belted out the sloppiest, most out of tune rendition of the happy birthday song she's ever heard. They had fought to be heard over the loud, earth-shaking bass of the club, and they had triumphed. They embarrassed her, as they always did, but she only fell deeper in love with each and every one of them.

She blew out the single candle Naruto had stuck into a cupcake. She thanked Kami for them, then she thought of Sasuke, the only one of her closest friends who wasn't there because he had a project due tomorrow. And in the very back of her mind… she thought of her mother. Her breath came out shaky and the flame danced clumsily before going out. Smoke rose from the cupcake but the image of her mother in her head remained.

Kiba hollered at a waiter and within a few minutes, their booth was filled with fizzy, fruity drinks and hard, heavy alcohol. Sakura opted for the latter−she has learned over the years that the heavier the drink, the easier she drowned out her mother's ghost.

Time passed and the colorful lights splashed against her skin like paint. There's gasoline spilling down her throat and setting her stomach on fire. She drank until she was no longer in the passenger seat with her mother looking at her with blank eyes. She drank until her best friend draped a jacket over her bare shoulders and informed her that she'd called someone to come pick her up because " _God_ , Forehead, you're drinking so much. Are you okay?"

"I'm just celebrating," she said, tossing her head back and downing another shot of… she doesn't know what, but it's getting her good so she doesn't really care. She smiled up at her friend cheekily. "It's my birthday!"

Sakura was sure she wasn't drunk−not in the same sense that drunk people deny their drunkenness, but in the sense that she has been drinking since she was thirteen so she has long gauged her tolerance for alcohol. Yet, everything was a blur. One moment she's in the club with Ino, and the next she was going on a road trip with her mother, only for her to then realize that it was actually Sasuke in the driver's seat. And finally, she found herself in the quiet of their apartment, right under his scrutiny.

"You've been drinking," he muttered, " _a lot_."

"It's my birthday," she shrugged, leaning against the front door that she had just closed behind her because she couldn't seem to enter her own residence. His heavy gaze seemed to be warding her off.

He slumped against the couch and lit a cigarette between his lips, eyes never leaving hers. There was a question there somewhere, but it was as if he didn't know how to ask, just like she didn't know how to answer. He looked angry. He looked like he wanted to fight her. He looked like he wanted to shout at her and call her out on her avoidance−of him, of what happened between them, of her, and of what separated her from everything else. She saw the tense muscles under his shirt and how angrily his nostrils flared when he exhaled smoke. She wanted to ease that tension, unwind him, set him free from problems that weren't even his.

That, she could do. Even if she couldn't answer his questions, she could give him _that_.

The next thing she knew, she was straddling him. He still had a lot of fight in his eyes, like he wasn't just about to let her off the hook. But her fingers splayed across his skin and she felt his resolve turn to liquid. She plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and replaced it with her own lips. Nicotine mixed with alcohol and they created a flavor that was entirely their own. She was all over him, all tongue and teeth because she's been drinking and she barely remembered how they used to fit together, so how did he expect for this to not be sloppy?

"Sakura, you're drunk," he released a heavy breath when he pushed her away, holding her in place by the shoulders. It was a reminder, more than it was a fact−a reminder for him to not take advantage and for her to not do something she'd regret in the morning. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark with their own kind of inebriation, and something of his pressed against her thigh. A sense of pride came over her when she realized that this was all her doing.

"I'm sober enough to want this," she whispered. Her fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck while her lips brushed his with every word. She kissed him again; urgently, hungrily, desperately. She wasn't sober enough to care if Naruto came home and found his sister fucking his best friend.

But Sasuke had more sense than her. He stood up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he went. She felt like she was floating, already reaching cloud nine and he'd only been kissing her. There was the loud thud of objects falling to the floor and creaks from furniture being moved to the side because the two of them were moving, walking further into the apartment with one destination in mind, eyes closed and lips locked. But it's all background noise to her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

In a whirlwind of movement, she felt the breath knocked out of her as he slammed her onto the bed. Everything was hazy from how fast they were going and her semi-drunkenness, but she saw him hovering on top of her, shirt flying over his head and she immediately reached for him−the feel of his body against hers was the only clarity she needed.

She came alive when he touched her. He stole the breath from her lungs and replaced it with his own. He set her on fire with his touch, not enough that it hurt but just enough that her back arched and her nails dug into his skin and her teeth grazed the shell of his ear−just enough to _feel_. Then she's on top of him, her hands on either side of him, caging him in because she wants him _shewantshimshewantshimshewantshim_ so fucking bad. And there were no more stupid, half-hearted, unintentional love confessions if that's what it took to keep him right where he was, in her arms and inside her and all over her. And it's all so messy, she realized, how she felt for him and how he made her feel and how she felt like she was losing her mind. She had never said those three words before, not to anyone. But she'd said them to _him_. And she didn't understand why she had felt so compelled to say them to him that day over a year ago, when she didn't even know what they meant.

She'd expected him to leave right after he caught his breath and collected himself. But to her surprise, he wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her against him, his nose in her hair. She took the gesture as an invitation and turned to curl up against him, her fingers tracing the delicious ripples across his stomach. And that's how they fall asleep; with his arms tight around her and her legs tangled with his, a monster with two heads.

Sometime in the middle of the night, cold washed over her. He had slipped away from her embrace, taking all his warmth with him. She reached out for him, for a second, afraid that she was losing him again. But his skin was cold and his muscles tensed when her fingertips brushed against him.

A cold breeze blew in from the open window. Colder than the breeze were his eyes as they locked with hers. Colder than the breeze was his voice.

"My brother is dead."

* * *

 **notes:** i'm graduating from high school tomorrow :)


	5. 16 years ago

**(16 years ago)**

 _Home_. What a peculiar word, a tragically foreign concept. The word was alien to her ears and even more so on her tongue. So when Naruto raised a bottle of beer high up in the air and cheered, "To our new home," she could only shudder. She gulped down eagerly to wash the weird-tasting word out of her mouth. She looked around the drabby apartment they were renting on the outskirts of Konoha University (because renting an apartment was cheaper than being in a dorm). It was a shabby little thing with pale, sick green walls and brown-spotted ceilings and crusty windows that almost blocked the light out. However, Sakura Haruno wasn't particularly picky with the places she lived in, given that she'd moved from one foster home to another and the worst she's been in was one where she had to sleep in the garage with only a futon mattress and nothing else.

She would say this was an _okay place_ , not _home_. For the next four years (and possibly more, given that she was a premed major), this was where she'd be living. With the most unlikely company, too.

Naruto Uzumaki, her adoptive brother, was a raging ball of pure unadulterated optimism and high energy. Upon first meeting him, the first thing she thought was that he was loud. He was loud in everything he did−he half-shouted in normal conversations and wrecked an entire manor when he snored and made the ground shake with his boisterous laughter. It was a mystery that she hadn't gone deaf in the two years she'd spent in the Uzumaki household.

Completing their trio was his best friend, Sasuke Uchiha, who was his complete opposite. Where Naruto was the sun, fiery and raging, Sasuke was the moon, calm and elegant, silent in its judgement. He wasn't much for conversation, opting for short responses and minimalist language more often than not. But occasionally, he would banter and argue and cuss profusely with Naruto−Naruto just had that effect on people.

In and of itself, the nature of their friendship and how it came to be was a conundrum. Surprisingly, Sakura fit into this whole relationship. They were polar opposites and she was the middle ground; she brought balance. They made her feel something she's never quite felt before. They made her feel like she _belonged_. As cheesy as it sounded, they were like puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

"I'm taking the master's bedroom!" Naruto announced without preamble.

"Why do _you_ get it?"

"You're both single," Naruto shrugged, though neither of his roommates understood the relevance of their relationship status. Both Sakura and Sasuke stared at him blankly, unable to grasp his logic, until he added,"I need the space!"

Sasuke's face twisted in disgust as realization dawned on him. He stepped forward with a heavy foot and made as if to wring his best friend's neck. "Dobe, this apartment is off-limits to Gaara!" He was almost stomping in a tantruming fashion when he followed his best friend into the big room.

Sakura only chuckled as she plopped down on the beaten up couch and propped her bare feet on the coffee table. She shook her head as she bit her nails, keeping her eyes trained on the two boys to make sure they don't kill each other in the middle of the argument. Personally, she adored Gaara with her whole heart. But she did understand where the Uchiha was coming from−Naruto could never keep his hands off his boyfriend. They were so disgustingly in love and the apartment was already too small,she couldn't imagine how it could contain their love and other hormones.

When she saw Sasuke backing out of the master's bedroom with Naruto's hand pushing at his chest, she tried to hide her smile. She'd already known he would lose the argument the moment it started. "If you even _think_ of having sex outside of this room, I'll break your dick." He reached out and slammed Naruto's door shut, just for the sake of having the last 'word.'

"Oh, you _wish_ you can touch my dick!" Naruto laughed mockingly from the other side of the door.

Sasuke turned his back on the closed door of the room he just lost, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. Sakura knew he didn't particularly hate the idea of Naruto being with Gaara−he hated the idea of couples in general. The idea of having one existing in the same space as him was probably sickening to him. She smirked at him from where she sat on the couch, her body twisted in a weird angle so she could fit herself into the single-seater."If I didn't know you enough, I'd think you were jealous of Gaara,"

He directed his now-ineffective glare at her. Two years of knowing him and she has become immune to his misdirected poisons. "I'm kidding," she chuckled, throwing a small pillow at him.

He clicked his tongue distastefully, tossing the pillow back at her as he stalked into his own designated room. It hit her in the face and she laughed. Over her laughter she heard him hiss, "How did I get stuck in this rut with you two."

 _Home_ was something she's never known. But here, surrounded by these boys− _her_ boys, she felt as though she eventually would come to know what it felt like.

* * *

 **notes:** so i'm thinking of updating twice a week now, just to get this story over with. i only have, like, four more chapters to write and i'm not really sure if i like where this story is going anymore−but i've finished the outline months ago so i guess have to stick with it. i know i'm not giving you much to work with here because there's not really a coherent plot yet, but please leave a review because feedback is always appreciated!


	6. a year and a half ago

**(1.5 years ago)**

Sakura stood at the foot of the hospital bed. A resident stood by her side, reading off of a clipboard to go over the specifics of the case. She tuned her out because she knew everything there was to know with just one look−she was _that_ good. But bits and pieces would still break through to her, and she clenched her hands into fists in the pockets of her white lab coat to keep from knocking the file out of her hand because _I know, you foolish girl, I don't need to hear this from you_. "33-year-old male… blunt trauma to the chest… multiple fractures… broken rib missed the lung by an inch…"

"Stop." Sakura ordered, voice so cold that it surprised both of them. "I can take over from here. Thank you, Shizune." The woman nodded and didn't say anything. She closed the blinds and locked the door behind her as she left, giving the chief-in-the-running and her new patient some privacy.

"Sasuke," she breathed out shakily. It was the first time she'd acknowledged him as anything but another patient since he'd been rushed in over five hours ago. She had been paged and informed that her husband was in the hospital, but they didn't let her anywhere near his operating room. So she paced in the long hallways of the East Wing, looking like she very much belonged in the fourth floor, the psych ward.

Her knees felt weak underneath her so she held onto the frame of his bed. She had lost her mother in a car accident. He had lost Itachi in a car accident. Sasuke… she couldn't lose him, too.

"You bastard," she hissed once she was by his side and she clutched his limp hand in her hands, tight enough to break his wrist. "I love you," she whimpered helplessly, hopelessly, pushing the hair out of his face and running her hand through his hair. She used to fall asleep to the sound of his even breathing and steady heartbeat. Right then, she fell asleep to his strained breathing and a loud beeping the resonated through the room.

When she woke up, Naruto was there, sitting on the opposite side of the bed across from her. He had been watching his broken best friend, but shifted his gaze to her when she stirred. He looked at her like she was a ticking time bomb, like she was about to explode any second, and maybe he was right. Because she felt her lips tremble and all of a sudden, her resolve dissolved. He ran around Sasuke's hospital bed and enveloped her in his arms. "I am so scared," she sobbed, holding onto the secure arm around her shoulders. She felt his chin right on top of hers. He was whispering calming, reassuring things, but she couldn't hear him because her vision kept moving from Sasuke's bruised and beaten form to her mother's blood seeping through her fingers as her little self tried to save her.

 _He's slipping through my fingers_.

.

He was discharged after five days. He was working again the following week. And every moment that he wasn't within her reach, she kept seeing him in the hospital bed, eyes closed and chest barely rising, with only a beeping machine to let her know that he was still alive. All of a sudden, he felt… unreal. A pipedream that's meant to vanish when she woke. She felt like she was going to lose him at any moment. But instead of holding onto him, she opted to protect herself.

Naruto told her not to worry. Ino asked her what was wrong. Mikoto and Fugaku called constantly to check on her and Sasuke. Minato and Kushina called constantly to reassure her that he was alive, that she was okay, that they were there if she needed anything. But all she could think about was how much she loved him and how much of her she had given to him, that if she lost him, she was sure she wouldn't have anything left.

"You look at me but it's like you don't see me," he told her once. He held her tight, as if he knew what she was afraid of and he was reassuring her that he's there, alive, breathing, _hers_ …

 _You almost died on me_ , she thought, _and I nearly lost my mind._

* * *

 **notes:** i appreciate all of the reviews, your thoughts and inputs, and i completely understand the confusion. but let me make a shoutout to _**fanofthisfiction**_! i was actually starting to be insecure about this story because what if no one really understands it and everyone just gets bored and leave halfway through, and whatnot. but then i saw your review and your describing the story so far as "a jumbled mess of intimacy and distance" and that just sparked something in me! it's like, _fuck yeah, someone gets it_! i didn't know how to describe what i was doing until you phrased it that way... and i just feel like there was something really powerful about that and i just felt so good about it. thank you.


	7. 3 years ago

**(3 years ago)**

Sakura reached out one hand to shake Tsunade Senju's, while the other held onto the diploma she'd been handed. Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling, but she couldn't help it−she couldn't fucking stop smiling. She felt exhilarated as she turned to face the audience. She spotted her usual people; Naruto and Gaara, Minato and Kushina, Fugaku and Mikoto, Ino, and−her heart fluttered at the sight of him, the thought that he's her _husband_ −Sasuke. Everybody else clapping for her were only clapping out of courtesy. They didn't know her, but someday, she swore they will. Her heart leapt at the thought of it.

One of Sakura's earliest memories were of the scent of blood and gasoline. The flashes of a wreckage and a woman she called mom, bleeding in the driver's seat. The taste of blood spurting out of her mother's stomach and the salt in her own tears. The feeling of helplessness as paramedics tore her away from her mother's pale and limp figure. Her eyes were still open, wide and dead−it was an image forever embedded in her memory. She remembered the incident in vague, unclear fragments, but her mother's lifeless eyes were always as clear as though Sakura had looked into them just a few hours ago.

She remembered all of this with detachment. Like she was someone from the outside looking in. Like she wasn't the girl crying in the passenger seat. Like it wasn't her mother bleeding out right under her fingers. She remembered all of this without any sort of emotion. Sometimes she wondered if she had been in shock at the time of the accident. Oftentimes she wondered if she was _still_ in shock.

She stepped off the stage and was catapulted into the arms of her loved ones.

She remembered when Tsunade had asked her if she was so passionate about being a surgeon because of what happened in her childhood, her inability to save her mother. But at the time all she could think about was herself, because she felt she didn't know her mother enough. She thought of her father walking out on her, of entering the foster system, of growing older and older and more and more undesirable for adopting parents.

"No," she had answered. "I want to be a doctor to save _me_. I want to prevent someone from becoming another me. I don't want anyone else to lose their family and go through the life I did."

She embraced her adoptive parents and her in-laws. She remembered foster parents who coddled her too much, always looking at her as if she was a broken bird they'd picked up off of the sidewalk. She thought of mothers who drank too much and fathers who stared too long and foster siblings who couldn't care less about her. She wouldn't be where she was if Minato and Kushina hadn't found her, and for them, she was thankful.

Naruto and Ino tackled her. With all the lei around her neck and a giant bouquet of flowers in one arm and her diploma in her other hand, she almost toppled over. It was all thanks to Gaara that she didn't, supporting her whole weight with his hand on her back, where it remained while the trio took their glorious time. These people were more than she could ever ask for, more than she could ever dream of.

When she'd kissed and hugged everyone there was to kiss and hug, she found herself in the arms of her husband. She looked up at him and saw a smugness in his face and pride in his eyes. She remembered nights when she would wake up from vivid visions from the accident, in cold sweat. Sometimes he would be there and sometimes he wouldn't. She much preferred when he was there. He has always been that something to take the edge off.

"I'm proud of you," Sasuke murmured into her ear.

"Me too."

* * *

 **notes:** i lied. i said i'd be updating twice a week, but there are six chapters left in the story and six days left in the week and too much time on my hands, so... i'll be posting a chapter a day just to get this over with, lmao. that'll also be good for the readers because then you'll have all the chapters to piece together what the story is actually about!


	8. 13 years ago

**(13 years ago)**

Sakura made tea for herself. She pinched her nose with her tissue as she continued to sniffle. She rubbed her hand over her belly because, for some ungodly reason, it just felt so _empty_. Empty, just like the apartment now that Naruto had moved out to live with Gaara. Empty, like Sasuke's eyes nowadays. Empty like the carry-on she should've been packing all week. Empty… everything was so damn empty.

It's been a year since Itachi died. Things had changed and they continued to change. But Sasuke and Sakura remained at a standstill−him, avoiding; her, enabling. He had been self-medicating and she had been his drug of choice, and it was only in those moments when he let her fuck him senseless that he lowered his walls and let her in.

The door to the apartment they had all to themselves opened and she felt her chest squeeze at the sight of him. There were dark circles under his eyes and his cheekbones seemed sharper from how much weight he lost. He paused by the open door, looking at her like he forgot he shared the apartment with anyone else. Then he stared at the tea, emotionless and passive, because _who would drink tea in this heat_? But at the moment, the drink made her feel better−it soothed her stomach and calmed her nerves, dulled the ache in her soul. He raised a brow at her.

She shrugged. "I just feel like shit." She'd been feeling like that lately, but today she felt shittier than usual. _It must be some kind of side-effect_ , she thought, absentmindedly clutching her stomach.

He sank into the seat next to her, smelling heavily of whiskey. That's what he'd been smelling like lately, and that's what he usually tasted like. She curled against him and breathed in. The smell of whiskey was starting to smell like home−she paused at the thought (one, it was a toxic thought that enabled his alcoholism and two, she didn't believe in the word _home_ yet).

"Sasuke, we need to talk," she murmured softly against his neck.

Instead of answering, he turned to her, hovering as he lowered her onto the couch. He kissed her fiercely, hungrily, once she was lying underneath him. Her breath hitched and she turned her head to the side to break the kiss. But that didn't stop him and she had accidentally only given him more access to her neck for him to place open-mouthed kisses on. "Sasuke, stop," she breathed out, holding him by the shoulders.

His eyes narrowed and he was almost growling when he reclaimed her lips. He attacked her, assaulting her lips violently, so aggressively that she thought he would kiss her mouth off. "I−" she tried to speak past his tongue slithering into her mouth. "I want to−go see−Itachi!"

He froze, his whole body tensing right above her. She cupped his face to forcibly press his forehead against hers before he could rip himself away from her like she was scalding him. She didn't deserve this, she knew. She didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his anger. She didn't deserve to be catapulted into this messed up, highly-toxic, shit of a relationship. But she couldn't leave him. Because she knew who he was _before_ and she knew she somewhat kinda-sorta loved that boy and she knew that he was still there. Maybe it was a corrupted way of thinking, but he had done the same for her… _before_.

"I know what I am to you… I know I'm just some kind of release, an emotional punching bag, and I don't deserve any of this−" she saw him open his mouth, like he was about to shout at her, but she cut him off, "−no, let me finish. I deserve better but I stayed because I care about you. Because you're my brother's best friend. Because I don't know exactly what you are to me, but you are so, _so_ important and it hurts me when you're hurt. Because you're _you_ ; you're one of the strongest, most resilient people I know and when I see you so broken, it makes my whole being ache! And if I go without doing this, I'm gonna end up worrying about you all the fucking time, so I… I'm doing this for myself just as much as I'm doing it for you. Because if I know you're okay, I could at least have a good night's rest. So _please_ , let me help you."

.

There were flowers on Itachi's grave when they arrived. Flowers she'd left the last time she visited him. Sometimes she would talk to him, other times she would just sit on the grass and stare at his tombstone. She came at least once a week and Sasuke hasn't been since the day they lowered the body to the ground. There was something rather intimate about him coming back.

He brushed his knuckles against the soft stone. _This_ was his brother now. His anchor, his hero, the one who had his back through it all… reduced to a slab of rock and left to rot in a box. She saw his knuckles turn white as his hand clamped down at the edge. "Sakura, it _hurts_."

She stepped towards Sasuke, just close enough that he could touch her hand when he reached back. "It's supposed to hurt," she reassured him. "It's okay that it does."

There was a sound. Strangled, grating, guttural, almost animalistic. It was something caught between a sob and a scream. Then he fell to his knees. One palm pressed against the dates that marked the life of his brother, while his other hand squeezed hers so tightly she thought her fingers would break. He started shaking then, violently, like he was going to shake his skin off of his bones. And the sobs followed soon after. He didn't lower his walls that day; they collapsed around him. His fortress crumbled down and he was defenseless.

She clamped her free hand over her own mouth, and she shook as she tried to fight off her own sobs. Sasuke Uchiha, who had always been an intricate puzzle from the very first time she met him. With his biting remarks and soft, loving touches and deadly glares. He has always been a man of few words, expressing his emotions through actions as best as he could. But seeing him then, his crumpled figure wracked by sobs over and over again, she realized that his emotions consumed him from the inside out.

He cried for what seemed like hours, and they didn't speak even when both of their tears have dried. It wasn't an awful silence though. It almost felt like absolution.

He sat on the ground, staring into empty space while she picked on the grass. He laid down with his head on her lap and she combed her fingers through his hair. He slept and she traced the angles of his face with her fingertip. He slept and she imagined him tomorrow, when she was gone. She wondered if he would go back to their apartment and waste away, or perhaps he would come back here? She knew this didn't solve everything. He wouldn't recover just like that, in the blink of an eye and a snap of a finger and buckets of tears pouring from his eyes like a waterfall and sobs that left his voice hoarse, but it was a start.

He slept and she talked to Itachi.

When he woke, there was a gleam in his eyes, a light she hasn't seen in so long. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it. She didn't realize she'd been crying until he reached up and wiped a single tear away. He sat up then, and took her hands in his, gently. Gently, as if he knew how much he hurt her when he'd clutched her hand like his whole life depended on it. Gently, as if he knew how much he hurt her, period.

"Sakura, I…" he started, but hesitated. For over a year, they've been communicating with their bodies. If anything was ever said between them, it was always trivial little things, nothing that ever actually counted for anything. They've been so primitive that words have become so hard to utilize. "I…" he tried again. His brows furrowed, frustrated at himself. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for what I've put you through," he continued. "But you should know you weren't just… release. It was catharsis, but… it was also more than that."

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, the way he always did when he wanted to kiss her so deeply that she felt it stirring her soul. But he didn't kiss her then, just looked at her like it was the first time he really saw her. It reminded her of the very first time they did it, of the first time they crossed the line from acquaintanceship to something unnameable. "You're my family."

 _You're my home_ , she wanted to answer. But they were words she couldn't say out loud because they were words that felt awkward on her tongue. Nevertheless, they were words that rang true in her heart.

"I'll visit you in Suna, every now and then."

"I'd like that."

She decided then that he didn't have to know about what happened that morning. He didn't have to know about the pills and her almost-nonexistent sorrow and the sinking feeling in her chest. He had just finally allowed himself to mourn Itachi. For the first time in a long while, he looked like himself again, and she didn't want to take that away.

She decided then that he didn't need to mourn the loss of a baby he would never hold.


	9. 2 years ago

**(2 years ago)**

Sakura yawned over her paperwork. She put her pen down for a moment to rub her throbbing temple and reached up with her other hand to massage the back of her neck. She stiffened at the memory of another pair of hands on her shoulders, sliding up her neck, squeezing to ease the tension in her muscles until his fingers were pressing on the scalp underneath all her hair. She frowned at the thought. There was something wrong and mildly perverse about thinking of another man−an _intern_ −in the comforts of the bedroom she shared with her husband.

She wouldn't deny that he was talented, though. And that he might be her favorite out of his whole batch. He was smart and determined, confident in everything he did. She would never say it out loud but lately she'd been thinking that he was ready for a solo operation.

However, he needed to tone down his flirtatious tendencies. He brought her coffee and muffins every morning, made sure that he was the one right next to her when they made rounds, and took every chance he got for skin contact. She never missed his self-satisfied smirk whenever she took off her wedding ring every time she scrubbed in, or how he made eyes in the operating room, or his suggestive gestures every time they passed the on-call room.

But she didn't like him like that. She didn't even want him at all. Though she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the attention.

She looked over her shoulder, at her husband whose brows furrowed in concentration as he typed away on his laptop. She could see how tense he was, leaning against the headboard of their bed.

"There's this intern who keeps flirting with me," she said, breaking the silence and the heavy concentration that filled their room.

Sasuke gave her a pointed look. He looked annoyed that she interrupted his train of thought and the flow of words at his fingertips, more than anything. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with one finger. "Should I be worried?" he asked, resuming to his typing.

She thought of her intern−soft, brown eyes and delicate fingers and gentle, purposeful touches. She thought of the on-call room and the sort of things that transpired within its depths, the things that _could_ transpire between _them_ … but no. No, she didn't want him. Here was Sasuke, too busy to even keep his eyes trained on her for more than a few seconds, and she still wanted him more than anything or anyone in the world.

"No, not really" she shrugged, and went back to work.

"Good," he said, his little smirk evident in his voice.

* * *

 **notes:** yikes, this was too short, sorry!


	10. 5 months ago

**(5 months ago)**

There was a little baby girl with big eyes and a shock of red hair, swaddled in her favorite blanket, in Sasuke's arms. She reached out with her soft, little baby hands and he let her take a hold of his finger. Sakura could see that he was brimming. He looked so serene, so _soft_ , so _warm_. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him−of them−of him, cradling a child in his arms. He held the lump of human flesh closer to his face, his nose skimming the soft rosy cheeks. He whispered something that didn't reach his wife, but it made the baby laugh.

Sasuke wanted kids, she knew. He never said it out loud out of courtesy to her, because he knew how busy she already was. But she saw his gaze linger on children on the rare occasions they get to go out or the babies in strollers when they do groceries. She saw the longing in his eyes, almost bordering to envy. But still, he never said anything. Sasuke never asked for anything, he was content with what she was willing to give. And she has debated with herself for a long time about it, whether she was willing to give this to him and sacrifice nine months of her time during the peak of her career, but…

"Do you want to hold her?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the little girl. She declined politely by pecking his lips before excusing herself from the room. She hoped he tasted the apology on her lips.

Maybe it was fear. Fear that she didn't know how to be a mother because she herself did not have a mother when she was growing up. Fear that being pregnant would make her more of a woman and lower her status in the workplace. Or maybe it wasn't fear at all, but reluctance. Maybe she just didn't want children, for no reason. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with her past or her career, and she just didn't want them. And there was nothing wrong with that! It didn't make her less woman, more monster. It didn't change anything about her as a person.

"Sakura-chan!"

She turned around, realizing that she had been so deep in thought that she didn't hear Naruto's footsteps following her out to the front porch of his home. She pushed her thoughts of motherhood and let her happiness for her brother come through. "So you're taking in strays again," she joked.

"Do you like her?"

"She's wonderful, Naruto," she said, her voice growing softer. Because even though she didn't want to have kids, or liked kids in general, she adored her niece. "And Sasuke is absolutely smitten."

He scoffed. "Yeah. I didn't think he had it in him to be so−" he paused, as if trying to look for the right word to describe his best friend, but he couldn't.

"I know," she sighed in agreement, though she wasn't really surprised at how gentle he was. Her husband could be cold and callous, yet he was compassionate and tender. She smirked inwardly; a piece of work, was what he was.

There was silence. There was something bothering her brother, she could see. He was antsy. He fiddled with his fingers and bounced on the balls of his feet, his teeth chattering. Then, "Do you think… do you think I can do this? Do you think it was right for Gaara and I to…? I mean, god, Sakura, I'm responsible for a _human_ now− _two_ fucking humans!"

She laughed. "Naruto, you will be just fine. You and Gaara? She's the luckiest girl in the world to have you two as her parents! Not to mention−" she scoffed, jerking a thumb to her chest. "she also has cool aunt Sakura!"

The anxiety flooded out of his expression and his scared blue eyes softened. He took a step towards her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, so tightly she couldn't breathe. "Thanks," he muttered. He kissed her on both cheeks before tilting his head down to look directly into her eyes, letting her know that all the attention was directed at her from that moment on. "What about you? Everything okay with you and teme?"

Her brows furrowed. She was about to ask why he would ask such a thing, when she remembered just who she was talking to. He was her brother but he was also Sasuke's best friend, and they've known each other far longer. He was as much a brother to Naruto as she was his sister. Sasuke trusted him more than anyone in the world and Naruto knew things even Sakura didn't. It was only natural that her husband would confide in him. So there was no point in denying it. Naruto was her person as much as he was Sasuke's, and he knew her just as well.

"I don't know," she said, and it sounded a lot like giving up. "There's too much going on−with my hospital, his firm, we just… we're tired."

There was silence, neither of them knowing what to say. This was the first time she had said it out loud. The first time she acknowledged that there was something wrong, that maybe she didn't have the energy to fix it and keep them together. This was… the beginning of the end.

"Do you still love him, Sakura?" he asked, and she winced at the sadness in his voice.

She hesitated. "I don't think love is enough."

.

Sasuke made dinner that evening. For the first time in months, he wasn't juggling his phone and laptop. The smell of fried fish and sauteed vegetables welcomed Sakura as she came home from a ten-hour surgery. Her feet were killing her, the back of her knees aching from standing for such a long time. He pulled out a chair for her when she entered the dining room. She wondered if he knew, if he could sense it somehow. She wondered if this was for her, if he was trying to make her waver… because she swore she almost did. Almost.

"Sasuke, do you want a baby?" She blurted the question out just as she swallowed her first bite.

Across the table from her, he made a choking sound, even though his chopsticks were only halfway up to his empty mouth. He lowered his hand and opted for a glass of water. He swallowed audibly, and he didn't look at her when he answered, simply, "I'm not asking you for anything."

She pursed her lips. She nodded, an understandable statement, an expected one from him. She continued to eat, then nonchalantly threw in, "We could've had a baby once." She paused, gauging his reaction. He stiffened, shocked. "A week before graduation, I found out I was pregnant. I took abortion pills the day before I left for Suna."

Another pregnant pause. She could see the gears in his brain working, churning her words and making sense of them. He was deep in thought and she knew he was thinking back to those days, tracing their steps and trying to remember the circumstances of those times. His hand twitched slightly and she knew he found what he was looking for. "The day you took me to Itachi's grave."

Several emotions overtook his tired, beautiful features all at once−hurt, anger, understanding… She had half-expected him to lash out at her, but he didn't. Instead, he breathed out, deeply and heavily. "I'm sorry," he said solemnly. "I'm sorry you went through that on your own."

She didn't know how they got to this point. But she knew she had something to do with it. There was a distance between them, a distance that she had allowed to get bigger and bigger. All because she was scared. But the thing was, he didn't do anything to close that gap, to try to keep her by his side. Sasuke never asked for anything, he was content with what she was willing to give. So she knew he wouldn't make her stay when she wanted to go. He would not fight for her when she herself had no more fight left in her.

"Sasuke, I love you," she said, looking more sorry than in love.

His eyes snapped to hers. For second, she thought he might just say it back. But instead, he popped a tomato into his mouth and nodded. "I know."

She loved him and she knew he loved her just as much. But they weren't happy. How was it possible to be in love and unhappy? How was it possible to be in love and miserable?

"Sasuke," she said again.

"What is it, Sakura?"

"I want a divorce."

"... I know."

And they continued to eat in silence.

* * *

 **notes:** two more chapters left~


	11. 7 years ago

**(7 years ago)**

It was the most random thing. It came out of nowhere, flying from her mouth like an unbidden secret. Or like a fart she's been holding in. Or like the puke that she was secreting out of her system at the moment. Why was it that every time she said those three words, it happened in the most bizarre, unexpected, and unintentional moments? This time, they were in the bathroom−her, braced against the open mouth of the toilet and him, right behind her, holding her pink hair in place with one hand while the other rubbed her back soothingly.

Her chest was heaving by the time she finished, the taste of bile still lingering in her mouth, a nasty aftertaste. She wiped her mouth with back of her hand, feeling as miserable as ever. She felt him move away from her and listened to the sound of water running in the tub, followed by his retreating footsteps, only to hear him come back a few seconds later. He held out a glass of water over her shoulder, which she gladly took and finished in one gulp. She scooted away from the toilet bowl and slumped against the tiled wall next to it.

"I feel gross," she whined. Her breath was stale with liquor and bile, her whole body was clammy with cold sweat, and she just felt so dirty all over. She glared at Sasuke when she heard him chuckle, and he just waved her off before taking a seat next to her.

He looked half-smug and half-sympathetic, but either way, he had that I-told-you-so look in his eyes. After all, he had been the one to say not to drink too much. _I need you sober tonight, Sakura_ , he had said. But once she got started, there was no one that could stop her. She almost wanted to smack herself, because what kind of doctor puts their liver at risk like this?! But then again, she'd shared a sake or two with her own mentor−Tsunade Senju was as much a drunkard as she was a medical genius and scientific pioneer.

Sakura was snapped out of her thoughts by the feeling of his cheek brushing against hers before she felt the tender kiss he planted on the corner of her mouth. She shrieked at the contact. She pushed him away. "You're disgusting, Sasuke," she grimaced, wiping at her mouth as if he had been the one puking his guts out.

"Shut up. You're annoying." He hooked an arm under her knees and the other on her back. He lifted her up and she shrieked as they both sank into the tub, the water still running, both of them fully-clothed. She immediately pulled away from him and slided to the opposite end of the tub, but he caught her ankle and pulled her close so that she was straddling him.

"You," she breathed out in a quiet laugh, "are a fucking idiot."

She slanted her lips over his, gasping as she felt his strong arms tighten around her waist. Apparently, he did not mind at all that she had just emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet−she was half-grossed out and half-turned on. Her fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and a low moan rumbled at the back of her throat. All the while they were sinking, slowly, until they were both submerged in the water.

She pulled him up after a few moments, both of them gasping for air. She wiped her hand over the length of her face before resting her forehead against his, both of them trying to catch their breaths. But occasionally, he would bite down on her lower lip or she would nip at his jaw. But as their breathing finally calmed, she found herself resting her head tiredly on his shoulder and his hand running up and down her back soothingly. She still felt shitfaced from all the drinks she had.

"We're gonna get sick like this," she said. Her hair was plastered onto her cheeks and her neck, her clothes sticking tightly to her whole form. She was already feeling an on-coming hangover; she didn't need to catch a cold, as well. Her hand slid down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, albeit with difficulty because it clung to her like a second skin. She tossed her clothing to the tiled floor and a loud, wet slap resonated throughout the whole bathroom. She wriggled on his lap to take off her bottoms.

"Take your clothes off," she ordered softly. It wasn't suggestive or seductive, more like a doctor telling a patient what to do. She pulled away from him so he could take everything off. Water sloshed out of the tub and she realized that the entire floor was soaked from all their movements. Once everything had been discarded, he grabbed her by the wrist to reclaim her place close to him. His legs on either side of her caged her in. She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her kneecaps.

He placed her hand on his chest, her fingers splayed right over his heart. She looked at him weird at first, but a sudden gasp escaped her when she felt his heartbeat thrumming under the palm of her hand. It was beating so fast she would've thought he had been running, only he wasn't.

"I love you, too."

The beats went quicker, or maybe it was hers, ringing in her ears. She looked at him in shock. When he asked why she had such a dumbfounded look on her face, she answered that it was because it was the first time he had actually said those words to her. He flicked her on the forehead, a grin playing on his lips and pink coloring in his pale cheeks, as he told her that it wasn't the first time; she just hasn't been listening too well.

He loved her. She wondered for how long, since when, how did he know… but she couldn't ask. Because she herself did not know how long she has loved him, or since when, or how she knew. It was something that just came about, a sudden realization, like waking up one morning and just _knowing_.

"Does that mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

Sasuke frowned at her. "Haven't we been?"


	12. now -- the end

**(now)**

The first time she meets him, he has stumbled into her room through the window, mistaking it for Naruto's bedroom. The first time he sees her, she is a crumpled heap on the floor, her hand clutching her chest and scratching at her throat because her lungs are incapable of taking in air. The first time he holds her is a breath of fresh air in her lungs. Their story begins when she's having a breakdown, right in the middle of a panic attack.

But it wasn't a love story right off the bat. It was a conundrum. But one thing has always been clear to her; from the very first time she saw him, she knew that he wasn't just a passing character in her life−he was one that stays. The real story starts when she can't get him out of her mind and he can't get her out from under his skin. The real story wasn't a love story; it was a story of finding comfort and release and sneaking around, a story of clumsy confessions and confused feelings and denial and avoidance. The real story was something without a name, an undefined relationship. The love story doesn't start until years later...

Now, a waiter ushers her to one of their function rooms. Sasuke Uchiha barely looks up from his phone when the door opens and she joins him, sitting across from him. The menu is laid out and open on her spot, and she doesn't take her eyes off of the beautiful man as she points to the dish she usually gets. The waiter nods politely and leaves after jotting down the order.

"Is the meeting over or did you bring the whole corporation with you?" she asks bitterly.

Sasuke spares her a glance and sighs. He looks tired, more worn out than usual. He takes another minute or two before she hears the sound of the email being sent, then he places his phone face down on the table. Never away, never out of reach, always just by his side. Sakura takes a sip of water because the thought makes her throat feel constricted.

"Did you…"

"Not yet."

"You don't want to?" he asks, and she sees something flash behind his eyes. Something that looks a lot like hope.

Sakura hesitates. It's not a matter of if she wants to or not. Not a matter of if she loves him or not. She doesn't want to because she loves him. But at the same time, she _has_ to. Because… because being with him−loving him in one moment and completely loathing him the next−it's suffocating her. "I do," she says. The words leave a bitter taste in her mouth as she remembers the last time she had said them; on their wedding day.

She takes out the folder he had delivered earlier in the morning and plucks a pen out of one of the pockets of her purse. She is about to flip through it and sign when the waiter arrives with their orders. Sasuke clears his throat and gestures for her to leave it for a moment and enjoy their meal first−probably the last meal they would share as husband and wife.

"Itadakimasu," he says, voice clipped. She nods in silent agreement.

The meal isn't as awkward as she had expected it to be. It isn't as tensed, either. It's… a little peaceful, she thinks, like they've both finally reached an equilibrium. They are finally on equal footing, on the same page, barely holding on and ready to let go. She wonders if this is what _closure_ feels like.

They finish eating sooner than she expected, and she is faced with the documents yet again. The waiter clears the table until there is nothing else to focus her sights on other than the terms and conditions listed in the divorce papers. "I'm chief of surgery now," she says, for the sake of filling the room with something other than the sound of her pen against paper as she signs their whole marriage away.

He nods and he shifts in his seat, sitting straighter. There is pride in his shoulders, and she knows it's for her."I read the journal. You look good on the cover," he says. He tosses his napkin onto the table carelessly after wiping at his mouth."But the writing's shit and doesn't do you justice at all."

An unexpected laugh erupts from her throat and she looks up at him briefly. "I haven't even had the time to read it yet."

(There is a twinkle in her eyes, the kind that he hasn't seen in so long.)

"What about you? How's your work? Any new interesting cases?" she asks. He is everywhere lately; she sees him on the nightly news, the papers… Sasuke Uchiha has really made a name for himself.

(It can be simple like this.)

(It could have been.)

(It should have been.)

(Why isn't it…?)

"Sakura, can't we−"

(Can't we try again?)

But as if to answer his own question, his phone rings. There was a split second when she perked up when he started his question, but the moment went as soon as it came. Her face drops as he answers his phone, excusing himself from the table to stand in the corner to argue hushedly with the person on the other end of the line. Whatever it is sounds urgent and her ears pick up bits and pieces as he hisses at the other person, something about an unwilling key witness.

Sakura exhales as she reaches the last page and Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose when he cut the call. He runs a hand through his hair frustratedly and she watches his hand clench and unclench. "I finished," she says, and he jumps a little, like he's forgotten she was there at all. "That sounded important. I don't want to keep you."

She rises from her seat and gathers her belongings, walking over to him to hand him the folder. He looks at her, his obsidian eyes staring into her jaded jade ones, as if searching for something. Then his eyes lower to the papers. He breathes out. "Sakura," he says. He does not say anything else but she knows, she understands.

"I know," she replies. _I love you, too. I'm sorry, too._

He takes a wad of cash out of his wallet and tosses it on the table. "I'll walk you to your car," he mutters. His hand on the small of her back sends a jolt up her spine. After years of being together, confusedly and unwillingly falling in love and decidedly falling out of it, and a single touch still shocks her entire system. And she can tell he feels the spark, because he stiffens for a moment. After all this time, after everything, and all of it still there.

They had been too young and now they are too busy. Too much has happened. This love was built in ruins and perhaps that's why it was unable to flourish the way it was supposed to. Still, a part of her wants to fight for this, fight for him, for _them_. But she also knows there's no fight left in her. Everything… is too stained and strained. With grief, anger, stress, and even love couldn't save them from that past. Even love couldn't make them heal. And it is time to accept it. Better now that she loves him still, than later when she couldn't stand him and their history is painted in an ugly color so that she couldn't remember anything good in him, in _them_.

She wants to _not-love_ him. She doesn't want to hate him, because the opposite of love isn't hate. The opposite of love is leaving. The opposite of love is giving up.

He walks her to her car and opens the door for her when she's unlocked it. She pauses and faces him before she goes in. She hesitates and he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of pink hair behind her ear, his finger grazing her skin.

"You still have some things at my place," she says, faster than intended because her knees weakened at the contact and she doesn't want him to see her wavering.

(He winces; it used to be _our_ place.) "I'll come by to get them within the week."

"I've sorted them already. The boxes will be in the study."

She turns to open her door, but before she can slide into the driver's seat, his hand is around her wrist and he is pinning her against the hood. Her breath hitches and her heartbeat quickens. She wants to kiss him, she realizes, but it isn't a good idea. She sees the tired look on his face and she knows the same shadows hang under her eyes. It is a reminder of the different lives they led outside of their marriage, the responsibility that is bigger than just _them_.

Never did she think that success would be this draining. That the price to pay for achieving her dreams and exceeding her goals would be this big. Never did she think that she would have to trade Sasuke Uchiha for her own life, her own career. And yet, here she is.

He rests his forehead against hers. "I really did love you," she whispers. "I still do."

"Aa."

No matter what has happened, one thing still holds true−there was only ever Sakura for Sasuke, and Sasuke for Sakura.

He places two of his fingers on her forehead, before turning on his heels and walking away. And somehow, it didn't feel like a goodbye.

.

.

.

 _ **fin.**_

* * *

 **notes:** this is a simple fic with a simple plot, but it is a story that is very timely with the events in my life. this is a story about the natural progression of relationships; of confusing feelings, falling in love, and falling out of it. now i'm sure you didn't enjoy a story where your otp doesn't end up together or one that leaves you in confusion because of the story structure. but i wanna thank everyone who hung around and actually read it.

and like i said in the earlier chapters, this is the first time i've tried this kind of writing style, so it's a very experimental piece. think of it more as a word vomit than an actual story, if you must. i'm not even sure if i'm happy with it or not, or if it's something i'm proud of having produced. but i gotta say, i feel a little relieved to get this out of my system. like i said, this was somewhat personal. i guess i wrote this more for myself than i did for you.

much love, Y.


	13. author's note

i was just revisiting this fanfic and felt really obnoxious.

firstly, i wanna say i was trying something new with my writing, as i've mentioned many times throughout this fic because i was so insecure about it; hence, the jumbled chapters and the unclear time skips.

and second, i was going through my own personal thing like my parents' separation so i kinda went through a whole phase of just not believing in marriage or that love lasts or whatever and needed an outlet for that and this happened, so yeah. but looking back now, i realized that overall ending was unnecessary, like there was obviously a lot of love between this sasuke and sakura and could definitely have made it work. the whole thing with sakura being afraid of how much she loved sasuke so she filed for a divorce was kinda really fucking stupid.

ok i realize now that this is totally irrelevant but i just wanted to call myself out on how badly-planned out this whole fic was. and i just wanna thank everyone again, two years overdue, for the kind reviews and your gracious reception of this material, it really does mean the whole world to me.


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